Your words are impactful because you only speak them when deemed necessary by your spirit. You never speak to hear yourself, and you never listen without hearing. When you talk your eyes wander... I think it's inside of yourself that you look. You always seem to go deeper than the surface of your thoughts. You understand that the last piece holds more value than the first.

You always crave more and in your silence I know there is searching.

Even in your silence there is life.

I wonder sometimes, if you see the warm blue light that encompasses your spirit. Ready for embrace. Calm and swiftly moving, steadily with peace, holding many of the same characteristics of a river. Smoothing over the jagged rocks that you come across. Whether they be people or situations.

Bursting at the seams with humility, you are love at it's finest point of being, you're G-ds example of the fact that love is living. That He is living. For He is love...

By that I am amazed.

Thank you.

I was in an abusive relationship once.. But it was a bit different.

You see, he was always the last thing on my mind before I went to sleep, and the first thing on my mind when I woke up.

He used to kiss me softly every night before I went to sleep.

He used to wake me up gently in the mornings and make me breakfast. He would run my bath water to the perfect temperature.

He used to escort me to the bus stop before work when the sun was yet to relieve the night sky of its shift.

He was always there. He lived in my mind and that's where he birthed complacency.

His first name was What, and his last name was If.

He never gave me time to myself, he never let me speak.

I tried to walk out on him. I swear I did, but he'd visit me at 4 a.m. and I would simply let him in. He would keep me up all night, forcing himself on me... In me. He wouldn't leave when I cried get out.

I was in an abusive relationship once, as scary as it is, I might still be.

All this time I thought it was a man, but what if, What If is a she?

What if all this time it was myself?

I've finally came to see.

What if all this time, What If is really me?

I wanted my passion back..
This was who I was, and I wanted her to visit.
Even for a brief moment, so I can kiss myself on the forehead upon my return.
And actually say goodbye when she decided to leave.
I wanted her back.
My passion.
I wanted my poetry.. Back.
She fled from me.
Lost underneath the city sky, with false illumination from street cars named desire.
There was no North Star for her to follow, no way for her to venture back to my heart.
Like a turtle needing the moon to be led to the sea, I doubted she would ever make it back home
Extinction was the roughest of all possibilities but to mourn the loss of a love held selfish tendencies
I only missed her cause of how she made me feel not because of who she was or who she could have been
The manifestation of my pent up frustration came to set me free
Just pull the trigger
Nobody will miss her
Oh say can you see- what I am saying?
All I wanted was my passion back.
And it wasn't until I found G-d that I heard three knocks on the door saying

Here
I
Am

It’s scary looking at someone that has every element and characteristic that you’ve asked G-d for in your most intimate prayers…

There’s something so nerve wrecking about looking someone in the eye and loving every piece of them without them even opening their mouths.

Realizing that you’re the ultimate side piece for it is from his side that you were created. He assures you of your position when he whispers, “I’ve found my rib” in your ear and takes your hand while he makes a vow to love you… And love you…
And love you.

And when they do, you stumble hand in hand 6 feet deeper into graves set in juxtaposition because so help me G-d not even death will do us part.

No.

How was this made for me?

When did you do this G-d?

Did he ask for me too?

I don’t have to, sit by the window anxiously awaiting a package anymore.
G-d delivered, my exclusive mailman. 

Shipping was free.

I just had to believe.

he wasn’t expecting my lips to be so warm

nor my heart to be so cold

he wanted to go by what he felt

and not believe what he was told